Archive for the ‘M/M’ Category

BLURB: Seth Mason’s life as a macaroni and cheese food truck owner in Austin, Texas, is pretty good, except for one thing: he’d like to find a man to share that life with. As part of an organization Seth founded, he donates leftovers to the local homeless shelter, and meets Ben, a new employee. He’s a preppy guy, and very much not Seth’s usual type, but the attraction is strong and not going away.

Ben’s just moved to Austin from Connecticut to take a job as a case manager at the Austin City Mission, the first time he’s left home and family. But only a short time after he starts work, he meets a man who, though he looks like an extra in a surfing movie, intrigues him. He’s hardly seen what life in Austin has to offer, and yet finds he wants to discover that with Seth’s help.

The passion burns hot between them–hotter even than Austin in the dog days of summer, and neither man can deny it. As they grow closer, both must decide if they have the necessary ingredients for lasting love, or if the relationship will go up in smoke.

Author bio:

Cassandra Carr is a multi-award winning romance writer. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out online. Cassandra’s books have won numerous “Best Book Of” awards and her novella Unexpected Top was nominated in the E-book Erotic Romance category of RT’s Reviewers’ Choice Awards.

She thinks the best part of being a writer is penning stories about love and sex while most others struggle with commutes, micro-managing bosses and cranky co-workers.

(Watch Me) Break You

Run This Town, BK #1

They’re in a war for control of the streets, but love will be the ultimate prize.

Here comes trouble…

Men. Women. Drugs. Dima Zhirkov’s favorite things. Add in the element of danger and he should be right as rain. But not today. It’s not working, hasn’t for a long time. He’s grasping at the flimsiest of straws to prove he’s indeed strong enough to run his streets. Until he sets eyes on him. In the midst of a room full of strangers, Dima is drawn to a man as cold and dangerous as he’s beautiful. Captivated, Dima embarks on a ruthless campaign to get his new toy into bed.

Here comes the danger…

Xavier “X” Storm is content to pull the strings while someone else handles the day to day dealings of his gang, The Rude Boys. He’s after what Dima holds closest—the Coney Island streets. He contracts out the job of killing the Russian, except Dima isn’t that easy to kill. When he suddenly shows up in X’s path, tempting him to indulge in the dirtiest play, he finds Dima isn’t all that easy to shake, either. His cocky attitude and rough submission tempts X to go where he’d vowed to never return, and they plunge head first into an affair fueled by possessive obsession.

Run for cover

Sex and pain Dima can handle, and X delivers the most depraved kind. Their connection is explosive, their games addictive, but Dima can end it whenever he wishes. He doesn’t see that X is breaking him down, giving Dima everything he wants and even more than he ever thought to need. By the time he realizes who X is and what he wants, Dima is raw and bullet-riddled. It’s run or fight. And Dima doesn’t back down. Neither does X.

Warning: Includes strong BDSM elements, and reference to rape and sexual abuse.

EXCERPT

“This little game that we play…” He paused when his throat burned.

“Is it, Rush? Is it a game?”

Down on his knees, Dima looked up and up into fathomless eyes. They trapped him enough that he forgot to bristle at that stupid nickname. Rush. Because he was Russian.

The pad of one finger touched his throat, slid down. He swallowed, but he had no saliva. He blinked to clear the haze over his eyes.

“Is it a game, this, what we do? This is how you play?”

Of course it was. He liked his toys. His drinks. His drugs. His women. His men too. Like the one who had him on his knees. This was Dima. The crazy little games that he played. He could leave at any time. Tied up as he was he couldn’t move except to flick a glance at the door flung wide open for anyone to see him beg to be used. But he could leave. End it. Because that’s what he did. He played. And then he walked away.

“Your game.” The hand in his hair moved then reappeared in front of his face holding another length of rope. “This is your game. You stalking me, begging me…”

Dima didn’t beg, not unless he was on his knees. He didn’t remember begging.

“You always in my fucking shadow making it impossible for me to do anything, cock blocking. That’s your game? The woman you just saw me with. The one you would’ve hurt if I hadn’t rescued her. All part of your game?”

She’d needed to be hurt. No one used his toys without permission. He’d stood in the shadows and watched her touch his toy, put her red lips to his ear and her long-nailed hands on his thigh, and Dima had salivated at the thought of gutting her. For touching what was his. He’d gotten hard as he’d thought of it.

Hot breath brushed his neck. Made him shudder. Usually he had better control when he played his games. Usually his toys didn’t affect him. Usually he didn’t pursue his toys either. This one was tough to catch. Impossible to pin down. It exhilarated him, that cat and mouse game.

“If I’d fucked her while you watched, would that have been part of the game?”

Something thudded in his chest. He swallowed again. Fire burned his throat. His head pounded as a flash of heat made him sweat. Anger. Not just any anger. Jealous anger. His lips parted and his toy swooped in, took him. His mouth. His tongue. His mind. And Dima started to pant because that wasn’t part of the game. Not his game. To be taken over. To be made to feel more than the superficial pain on his skin. He tried to stop the kiss, turn his head, but his toy caught him by the throat, fingers tight, pressing in, stealing breath he didn’t seem to want to give back.

A Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Stone Mountain, GA., with a tolerant spousal equivalent. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing the plot points of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother.

Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of Avril’s stories, but there’ll always be a happy ending; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.

Hi everyone! We’re the authors of Campus Cravings, a MM bundle. Thanks so much for hosting us, or, if you’re a reader, for taking the time to read this! We really appreciate it!

Top Ten Reasons to Check Out Campus Cravings:

1. College is a time of eye-opening exploration and experimentation, and there’s just something about a Cathia University man…

2. All the stories take place at fictional Cathia University—where not even homework or grading stands in the way of true love.

3. What’s better than one hot man? Two! And what’s better than two? Eighteen! (Nine stories, each with two heroes, yay!)

4. The stories are interrelated, so you’ll see characters from stories appear in others, notice many of the same buildings being used etc. That was a lot of fun for us to write and we hope you enjoy that aspect too!

5. Every story is brand new! That’s over 220k words! Four seasons of academic fun—from the first students arriving in Fall, to winter holidays, to March Madness and Spring Flings, to Summer loving—there’s something for every part of the academic year.

6. Unique pairings—whether you like friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, reunion romances, May-December pairings, first love, or hot-for-teacher flirtations, you are bound to find some of your favorite tropes! And if that’s not enough, there are hot athletes, sophisticated professors, activist heroes, and lots more!

7. Sports galore—soccer, hockey, basketball, equestrian and more! Join the authors and the characters as we root for the Cathia Cougars!

8. Pranks, parties, and plenty of fun—you really want to find out who dyed the fountain red and who’s at Friday’s Frat party!

To find out more information about Campus Cravings, check out our group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/299579866886134/. Add us to your to-be-read list on Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22738703-campus-cravings.

If you readers would like to help us out, here are a couple of Tweets you can just copy and paste into your account. Additionally, feel free to use these for Facebook or just share this entire post through Facebook and Twitter with the social media buttons on the blog!

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I am so screwed, and not in a good way. A headache began to take hold and he moved his hand to massage harder.

“Look at you,” Brendan waved a hand in Scott’s general direction. “You’re gorgeous, you’re successful, you’re sophisticated. I’m just some confused shmuck who’s never even kissed a guy.”

“Never?” I should not care about this. I need to stop. No good can come of this.

Brendan’s face bloomed red. “No. I’m not the type to walk into some gay bar and pick up a guy. Just the thought of it kinda makes me want to puke.”

“Not everyone is interested in that lifestyle.”

“Are you?” Brendan shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the right to ask you that. I know I’m making an ass of myself right now, I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” Scott dug himself deeper with every word, but he couldn’t stop.

Brendan clenched his fists on the desk, tapping his knuckles. Meanwhile, his right leg bounced and the poor kid looked as if he would self-combust from the red suffusing his face.

After a moment of charged silence, Brendan said, “So, you want me, but can’t have me.”

“Right.”

“Well, you’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted. I’ve known about my sexuality for a while now, but this is the first time I’ve met somebody who actually interested me beyond a casual attraction. And this sucks. I’m distracted; I can’t do my schoolwork; I’m making mistakes on the ice. I can’t have this.”

Scott leaned against the window and asked, “Then what do you want to do?”

Brendan licked his lips and Scott’s treacherous gaze followed the movement. “This.” Before Scott could even react, Brendan had grabbed him and kissed him, sloppily pushing his tongue into Scott’s mouth even as Scott tried to force his muddled brain to catch up with the program. He moaned as Brendan’s strong arms came around his waist, pulling their groins together. For a guy with no experience, the man revved Scott up pretty fucking fast. His dick pushed against Brendan’s sizable erection. Brendan moaned and the back of Scott’s head bounced off the glass behind him as Brendan attacked his mouth with even more vigor.

The pain radiating through his skull brought Scott out of his trance. He shoved Brendan away—shit, the guy had some strength for a man his size—and retreated to the corner of the office. Brendan stood between him and the door or he would’ve bolted that way.

“We can’t do this,” he managed to gasp out. His body had a very different opinion, but Scott ignored his baser needs. Someone had to take charge and stop this madness.

“You said you wanted me.”

Scott blew out a loud breath through his nose. “That doesn’t mean we should do anything about it. In fact, it would be a lot safer for both of us if we didn’t.”

“Because you’re a professor?”

“Well yes, that. And I’m, what, fifteen years older than you?”

“You’re saying I’m just some dumb kid who doesn’t know any better?” Brendan began to turn away, but then spun back. “You responded to me. That might’ve been my first kiss, but I know what happened. You liked it.”

Putting up a hand in a placating gesture, Scott said, “I’m not denying anything, but enjoying a kiss and letting it go on are two different things.”

“I get it.” Scott tried to go on, but Brendan stopped him. “No, I do. I get it. I’m sorry.” Before Scott could stop him, he’d grabbed his bag off the chair he’d dumped it onto earlier, yanked open the door, and slipped through it. As he slammed the door behind him, Scott slumped to the floor.

“That went well, you jackass,” he muttered.

An excerpt from Switching Leads…by Mia Downing

John nodded slowly. “I never realized how you felt about me or my riding. I never believed…” He took a deep breath. “You told me you loved me, and then I found you in bed with Dean, and then the job…” He shrugged and looked away. “I never believed how you felt about me then. And I’ve been pissed for ten years.”

Finn swallowed, his heart hammering. “Now do you believe I felt that way?” He wasn’t going to ask if John believed he loved him still. Baby steps.

John’s gaze flickered from Finn’s eyes to mouth and back up again in a slow perusal that seared Finn’s skin. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely and leaned across the stool between them. His lips brushed Finn’s surprised ones in a gentle kiss.

He’d dreamed about this for so long—John’s acceptance of his apology—but never had it ended like this, with those firm lips sliding across his as if coaxing belief from the inside.

John withdrew and slid from his stool. He spun Finn’s seat a little and eased between Finn’s thighs, the beginning of an erection pressing against Finn’s zipper. Finn’s cock throbbed at the contact, his belly contracting with anticipation.

“I’m sorry,” John whispered, his pupils dilated, eyes hooded as he stared down into Finn’s eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly against Finn’s.

“For what?”

“For being unprofessional. I’ve never kissed a co-worker before.” John bent and brushed Finn’s mouth in another kiss, this one a little longer with a touch of heat. Finn didn’t dare open his mouth and beg for tongue. In the past, Finn had ruled their sex life, had directed the kisses. The fact that John had switched leads on him was as heady as a bottle of good Bourbon.

“I promise I won’t tell,” Finn murmured when John lifted his lips.

John cupped the back of Finn’s head with his palm. “Good.”

An excerpt from Winning Bracket…by Annabeth Albert

“Hold up. If I filled out a bracket and mine beat yours, you’d do whatever I wanted? Like anything?”

“Sure.” Ollie shrugged, an insolent lift of surprisingly wide shoulders inside a too-big shirt. “I mean not all day. But sure, you want me to be a slave for an hour or something, I can take it.”

Ka-pow. The firecracker exploded, hot want raining down on Edwin, sparking against his skin. Anything. Ollie-as-slave images began to run on repeat in his brain, Ollie getting considerably less clothing with each pass. Edwin could ask for anything, and it would just be a joke to Ollie—a lark to be laughed over later, no more of a big deal than opening up with a can of silly string or shorting his sheets every night for a week.

Oh my god. Would it work? Could he use something like this—a stupid bet on stupid basketball—to exorcise the Ollie demons that had plagued him for years, all without having to admit how he felt about Ollie? Because while Ollie had been busy with the jock-crush-of-the-month plan, Edwin had been hung up on Ollie. For three and a half years. If a stupid bet could shake Edwin free, then it was worth having to learn something about basketball.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Yay!” Ollie clambered off the bed, springs squeaking as he hit the floor. “You’ll see. This is going to be a great couple of weeks! So what are we going to play for this week? If my bracket does better by Sunday night, you send an email supporting the next watch party and you show up. And if you win…”

“I want a kiss.” The words escaped Edwin before he could call them back, before he could temper them with logic or suppress them with reality.

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported us! We hope you enjoy the bundle!

Hi everyone! Happy almost Halloween. I’m Tara Lain and I write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Thanks so much to Selena for inviting me to share in the 13 Days of Halloween.

When I was a kid, Halloween was almost bigger than Christmas as a favorite holiday. I’m an Army brat and we lived all over the world on Army bases and posts. Whether we were in Japan or New Jersey, Austria or Long Beach, all the kids united over Halloween. Army housing is in rows or courts, all identical, and in those days, walkable and safe. We’d take huge bags, sometimes pillowcases, and head out in our costumes. Running from house to house, we’d sometimes be lined up eight and ten deep at the doors. Trick or Treat! We loved the houses where the moms made popcorn balls held together with marshmallow, but you had to eat them quick or their plastic wrap cover would come off and get all the other candy sticky. People who gave whole candy bars became the names repeated on the kid grapevine, and we’d all be sure to show up there. But my personal favorites were Nickel Nips and candy lips. Yes, I’m showing my age. Those can only be found in retro candy stores now along with Beemans and Blackjack gum. We’d run home and pour our booty out on the dining room table, then head back out with more room in the bags while mom and dad sorted through the goodies they wanted for themselves!

Today, we don’t get much Halloween. We live on a very steep hill with no sidewalks and where the doors of houses are far from the road. It’s a great place to live — but a bad place to Trick or Treat. We frequently get no visitors with bags at the ready. But that’s okay. It would be tough to ever live up to my childhood memories.

As it happens, I’ve written a Halloween story. It’s called Trex or Treat and it all takes place on and around one very sexy Halloween. It’s in the Halloween Heat IV Anthology. If you’d like to win it, please do two things.

Leave me a comment with your email address sometime before the end of the 13 Days of Halloween

Josh Harris doesn’t have time to be gay. A busy college professor and devoted single-dad, Josh tries to be happy with only his son for company. But then Bradley “Trex” Trexler moves in across the street with his step-brother, Bogo, and sets up his house for Halloween. Josh’s son Ernie can’t wait to go, so Josh dresses up like a movie cowboy and saunters over. But at the end of a long, dark hall he meets another sharpshooter — with a bead on Josh. One trip blindfolded into the dark house of horrors changes his view of the world. And the “adult” party Trex has planned in the bounce room puts an end to Josh’s life-as-usual. Maybe this Halloween Josh can have Trex and treats.

Once they got into the room, the door behind them closed with an ominous thud. Kids’ screams came from somewhere in the back of the house. The kind of screams that meant that something awful just happened and it was great. The crystal ball flickered. “Ennnter my housssse of horrrroorrrr.”

Yikes. Something horribly tickly swept the back of Josh’s neck.

A curtain pulled back to reveal a long dimly lit hall. Josh nudged Ernie. “I think we’re supposed to go that way.”

Ernie got the big eyes again. “You wanna?”

“I think we better.”

The walked past the crystal ball that was now smoky and stepped into a hall. Lights came on in front of a mirror. Josh started and Ernie gasped. They both laughed at their own reflections — a lean cowboy and a little super hero. Suddenly a small Darth Vader stepped into the hall. Ernie giggled as the little Darth walked slowly toward him. Ernie stepped out and approached Darth at an equally portentous pace.

Finally, they were nose to nose. Darth reached out and flipped up his visor. “Hey, Ernie. Come on, let me show you the cool decorations in my room.”

Ernie looked back at Josh. “Can I, Dad?”

“Sure. Stay out of trouble.”

The two boys ran out of the hall. Josh looked around. Where should he go now? Back outside?

A voice came from the other end of the hall. “I’m not sure there’s room for two gunslingers in this town.”

Josh looked up. Doc Holliday, aka, Trex, stood at the other end of the hall. Black hat, dark three-piece suit, a gun at his side, and a delicate handkerchief tinged with blood — the clue to the character since Holiday had died of TB. The western garb looked perfect on that tall athletic body. The real Holiday never looked so good. Josh wanted to drool.

Josh smiled, but Trex didn’t break character. His gaze, steady and dangerous, rested on Josh’s face. Okay two can play. Josh scowled like a man who gazed into the sun all day and chewed the stump of cigar in his mouth. He rested a hand on his toy six-shooter. “You want to try me?” The words were out. Crap, what did he just say?

Trex/Holiday sauntered toward him, spurs jingling. He came face to face with Josh and cracked a hint of a smile. “Show me what you got.”

“Uh, oh I…”

Trex reached up and took the unlit stogy. Then he slipped a hand around Josh’s neck and pressed a hot mouth over Josh’s lips with a hint of warm tongue. Holy crap. Their hats bumped and Josh’s fell backwards. He grabbed for it, their teeth knocked together, their noses squashed and Trex pulled back laughing. “I guess we know that cowboys didn’t spontaneously seduce each other. Too much shit to get in the way.”

Josh knew his eyes were wide and he was having trouble keeping his breath even. “Doing a little cowboy experimentation, are we?” He reached down and grabbed his hat from the floor and put it back on.

Trex waved a hand down Josh’s body. “Hey, you come in looking that great, you gotta expect some admiration.”

“Okay, be right there.” Ernie ran back toward who knows where. Josh looked at Trex. “I think I’ve been summoned. Where are they bobbing and shit?”

Trex laughed. The low chuckle tingled in Josh’s cock. The guy was too sexy. “Follow me.” He put a guiding hand on Josh’s shoulder which was enough distraction to make Josh stumble. The heat of Trex’s lips lingered despite the awkwardness of the kiss.

Josh nodded toward Trex’s costume as they walked. “What made you decide on Holiday?”

“I didn’t think you’d miss my subtle clue.” Trex flashed the handkerchief. “Doc may have loved Big Nosed Kate, but I’ve always found his devotion to Wyatt to have gone a bit beyond the call of duty. And you decided the Man with No Name was gay?”

“Maybe he had so little to say to all those outlaws because he really wanted to discuss china patterns.”

Author Bio:
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

Duec, head of the demon hunters and La Ceinture Noire’s owner, is master of all he surveys, except fate. Death shadows him, drawing closer each day. A different foreboding whispers of danger to Belinda, the damaged halfling he’s sworn to protect. He’s waited a lifetime for her. She’s the other half of his soul, a true submissive too wounded to accept him as her master. He must make her safe from his enemies without him.

Unable to tolerate another’s dominance, Belinda, contract witch to the demon hunters, plays at Duec’s club as an icy Domme. She earned her nickname, Control Queen by giving other submissives the discipline they need to find release without ever seeking personal satisfaction. No matter how skillfully she manages her subs, the only male she longs for never sees the strong mistress she’s grown into, only the frightened, damaged child he rescued.

Then his enemies strike, capturing Belinda–changing everything. A failing Duec must battle ancient evil to save his mate and Belinda must find Duec before it’s too late.

Belinda gave an exaggerated shudder and turned to Holly. “You’re so much braver than I would ever be. I can’t even imagine getting naked in front of this crowd.”

Or anywhere else, for that matter. No one needs to see the scars under my leather.

“There’s no courage required. I just stand there and follow Colin’s orders.” Holly’s thick blonde lashes dropped, and her fair skin pinked becomingly. “Nude is fine, because my obedience pleases Colin, but I’d love to wear a pair of boots like yours.”

“No way.” Colin shook his head. “Not in public. You’d cause a riot in those shoes. I have to think about crowd control.”

Holly smiled at the implied compliment. “Yes, Sir.”

“It’s almost showtime.” Colin’s voice deepened.

“I’ll try to catch part of your demonstration. Better move along before your fans get restless.” Belinda made a shooing motion at the couple.

Holly sketched a wave over her shoulder as Colin propelled her toward the glass-enclosed, center scene room. It was hard not to be envious of their mutual devotion. Belinda shook off the mood-dampening petty jealousy on her way to the bar. Colin and Holly were perfect together. She couldn’t imagine either of them with anyone else. She found a vacant seat, tucked her toy bag under it, and then perched her butt on top of the padded stool.

Ramon, another demon hunter and super-popular Dom, worked the bar. He made his way over to where she waited. There were seven demon hunters, not counting Duec. Each one different, but they were all hot and hunky. She fully enjoyed the view while he prowled toward her.

“What can I get for you, beautiful?”

“A little respect and a diet cola, easy on the ice,” she said with enough bite to remind him she wasn’t one of his human groupies.

Chris is warding the house against ghosts? Huh? Darien’s pretty sure Chris is pulling his leg, but his dignified lawyer lover seems awfully serious when he tells Darien that there’s a history of ghosts in his family and he needs to ward the house before Samhain officially starts. His grandmother even calls to make sure he’s doing it.

They’re kidding, right?

When he finds out the truth, it’s better, and sexier, than he could’ve imagined.

Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: m/m sex practices.

Chris faced him for a moment. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Light glinted on the light frames of his square glasses. Then he laughed, but it was forced. And brief. “All right, magpie. You got me.” He turned back to continue painting.

Darien’s laughter died. “Chris, quit it.”

“Everything will be fine if you let me finish.”

He pushed from the doorframe, fisting his hands at his sides. “Quit it. I’m not falling for it.”

“You mentioned that.”

“All right. Tell me why you’re warding against ghosts.”

Chris used a knuckle to push his glasses up higher on his nose before he resumed drawing patterns. “My family is descended from druids. As such, we’re rather attractive to ghosts.”

Darien fell back a step, eyes wide on his lover. “What?”

Chris shrugged, never taking his eyes off the window. He paused, fingers in the air, painting patterns.

“Chris?”

He held up one long finger toward Darien, then resumed his air painting, muttering to himself as he stared intently at the pane of glass before him.

Darien was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

When Chris stopped muttering, he turned to force a smile at Darien. “Don’t worry about it, magpie. Nothing will happen if I can finish this.” He came back to stand before Darien. He used a knuckle to tilt Darien’s face up, bestowing a light, lingering kiss on Darien’s lips. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll finish, then we can carve pumpkins and you can make me watch that deplorable slasher movie you wanted to watch.”

Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead is here. For Ben Cameron, this holiday is painful without his best friend, Manuel “Manny” Cervantes.

For Shari Livingston, this is a day to remember just how much Manny has done for all of their friends. She never expects Manny to appear at the Dumb Supper she and the others have put together or to demand that she and Ben admit their true feelings for one another.

However, Manny the ghost isn’t about to let them get away with just sleeping together to make him happy. He knows more about them than they want to admit even to themselves. Can this matchmaking ghost get Ben and Shari together or will he be forced to play the ultimate match game to show the love between them both?

Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable. This story was previously released in Spirited.

Closing her eyes briefly, Shari listened to his heart, allowing herself to see if he was lying to her. His pulse was steady, there were no other telltale signs of lying, and she wanted to believe him. She had wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Why not give into one night of passion? Tonight could celebrate the joy of life after losing someone like Manny, who brought love and life into each person he touched. Opening her eyes, she nodded briefly. “Fine. One night, my home, my rules. Our friendship remains even if this romantic interlude doesn’t work and even if it does.”

“One night, your home, our rules. I won’t let you have the upper hand in this.” This time his smile reached his eyes. “I know how you can be; you forget how many times you’ve told me about the latest sex escapade, not realizing how hot it made me to claim you myself.” Tugging her close, Ben slid one hand into her loosened hair, then pulled, guiding her lips toward his. “Tonight won’t be like anything you’ve ever had before, Shari. That, I promise.”

His lips were warm and demanding while his tongue swept along her lips, trying to slide between them. With a soft moan, she opened to him as she slid her hands up his chest to his strong shoulders. His taste was not just maleness at its finest, but a combination of the wine he had drunk, the chocolate cake, and something spicy that defied recognition to her sensitive taste buds. Her tongue slid against his, teasing him with bold and then soft strokes as she pressed her body against him. Too long she had denied herself even thinking of the only kiss they had shared so long ago. This kiss seared the old one away, leaving behind quaking need as his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth before slowly withdrawing to outline her lips.

“Gods above, Shari,” he hoarsely whispered against her lips as their foreheads touched. “I need you tonight. Say yes.”

Deep blue eyes filled with desire, respect, and something else captured her gaze. There was no other answer to give. To deny this one night would be denying the dreams she’d had for months now. “Yes.”

Ever since his brother, Cougar, married Paparazzi, bad girl gone good, the crimefighting duo of Cougar and Lynx had become a trio: Cougar and Paparazzi, plus Lynx. Before he put the ring on his lady’s finger, his brother might’ve joined them to join in a hot little threesome, but marriage had made him possessive.

It’s not that he begrudges the newlyweds their quality time, but Lynx could use a little quality of his own. He’s in desperate need of a little action to take the edge off his gnawing frustration. He figures he’ll spend Halloween in Manhattan beating the crap out of super villains.

A rooftop encounter with a sexy psi-siren with her mind on seduction changes everything. Maybe he doesn’t need a fight.

He just needs a little (or a lot) of Voodoo.

Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: bdsm.

Breathing hard, Lynx paused and scanned the darkness. This was Voodoo’s unofficial patrol zone, so with any luck, he should run into her again tonight.

He’d known a lot of superheroines over the years, but she was something special. No dilettante adrenaline junkie or spandex-clad wannabe, she was determined and serious, even after the attack that had come so close to killing her. Like him, she really believed in the necessity of what they did.

He’d been strongly tempted to beat Reaper to death for hurting her.

Lynx gave the skyline another questing scan, looking for the flap of a familiar cape. Nothing…

A female mouth suddenly closed around his cock, wet and hungry. He gasped and almost tumbled off his perch. Catching himself against a metal pipe, he threw a look downward. Despite his rioting senses, his groin armor was still firmly in place.

A clever tongue swirled and danced around his thickening shaft as ghostly fingers gently squeezed his balls. He grabbed for his dick, wondering if some invisible superwoman…

Dunne has always wanted his Alpha more than Hunt, the head of his pack, wanted him. Dunne could live with that. But he can’t live with Hunt’s latest fetish…at least not until Hunt convinces him otherwise. And when he does, it’s a real Halloween treat.

Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: m/m sex practices.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you? All right, then.” Hunt sighed and stood up. “Pull your pants down, boy. I see it’s time for a lesson.”

Yes!

Dunne’s hands moved before he thought. It had been days since they’d been together. For a moment he remembered he was going hold out on principle and not make it easy on Hunt — to hell with principles, especially ones that only he seemed to have. By now he’d take anything Hunt was willing to give.

Dunne turned, trying not to fumble with his belt as he obeyed. He could hear Hunt unzipping his own pants, but Dunne knew better than to look around. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Hunt’s cock, full and erect, ready to plow into his more-than-willing asshole. Not at all. That erect cock was a sight to worship while on bended knees.

But when Hunt said it was lesson time, Dunne knew to keep his eyes and his pants down until Hunt told him differently. Hunt was Alpha. Hunt was boss. Just the idea made Dunne’s cock twitch.

Contest: Like the Loose-Id FB Page, Tell Loose Id: Happy Halloween, Loowis! And come back here, and leave a comment with the updated number of Likes the page has. If you have already Liked the page then go to the Halloween Section of Loose-Id and tell us what Halloween book tickles your fancy.

What is your name and occupation? Beck Stryker. I’m mid-thirties, and I work as a homicide detective for the Denver Police Department.

Do you like your job? Why or why not? I like it, but I miss the cop I used to work with: Danny Halliday. He died in the shootout where I got this (Points to left shoulder). I don’t want to get shot again.

Who is the person you dislike the most? Right now, I’m not big on Warren Sands. He’s the director of the Minneapolis division of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit. Sands keeps roping my… (clears throat) boyfriend, Zach, roped in to further investigations.

Is there anyone special in your life?Zach Littman. We worked together on a recent case, and we’re…working on a together kind of thing. Still pretty much on the lowdown. I haven’t come out at work. Yet.

What’s your favorite meal, and do you fix it yourself or have someone fix it for you?Steak and baked potato. No one makes a meaner steak than Zach. I’m not much of a chef, and he enjoys cooking.

Football or baseball?Football. The Denver Broncos.

Favorite holiday? Christmas could be it, depending on how things go this year (grins).

Excerpt

Damn rainy weather.

Beck’s left shoulder ached, and he rearranged his holster. If this kept up, he’d need pain meds to sleep tonight. Meanwhile, time to take a break and sneak some ibuprofen. Even if it was a nonsteroidal, couldn’t have the boss thinking he wasn’t 100 percent and ready for the field.

He made for the men’s room. In a stall, he dry-swallowed three of the blue gelcaps, then peed and washed his hands. On the way back to his desk, he stopped at the drinking fountain and gulped water, making sure the pills would dissolve. Twenty minutes, and relief should kick in.

Beck reached his desk and lowered himself into the chair. A pile of reports sat waiting for his attention. Ridiculous. He was a homicide detective, not a secretary. This was a waste of his skills. Field cases waited, infinitely more interesting and requiring a detective’s intuition.

Across the room, Van met his gaze and looked away. Beck spun his chair toward the windows behind him. Sheets of water rippled down the windows, blurring the building across the street.

After the shooting, Beck’s ex-lover had made it clear as still water that there was nothing left between them. At least Van had understood the pressures of the job, the danger, both on the street and in the department. Homicide was a macho division, and the other detectives were unlikely to accept an alternate orientation. He and Van had agreed to keep their relationship under wraps. Had they had a relationship or just been fuck buddies?

Nights in a soft bed, Van’s hot tongue everywhere until Beck squirmed with need. A firm grip on his cock, stroking.

“What would you like tonight?”

Heat rushed to his groin. Mind-blowing sex—no doubt about that—but was that all they’d had?

They’d never eaten at a restaurant unless it was out of town. They’d never taken a vacation together. Van liked sun and sand and room service; Beck preferred snow and skiing and grilled steaks at the lodge. And they never stayed over at each other’s places.

Sure didn’t sound like a relationship. Hell, when he’d been lying in the hospital with his shattered shoulder pinned together, wondering if his hand would ever work again, he’d turned to Van expecting emotional support, and his lover had gunned down the only thing Beck had left.

Van had left nothing at Beck’s apartment except travel brochures.

The first time Beck had risked his heart, and he’d gotten blown away for his trouble. Staying secreted in the closet precluded Van paying attention to a disabled boyfriend. “It would look strange if I spent extra time with you,” Van had said, and he’d been careful not to visit more often than any of the others. At that point, Beck had wished his injuries had been more severe, that the bullet had hit a few inches to the right and down, preempting Van’s assault on Beck’s heart. Death had sounded better than total bereavement.

Anger had overtaken depression in short order. The first thing he’d done after arriving home was deep-six the tropical-vacation brochures littering the kitchen counter.

In the ensuing weeks, Beck had fought through the pain of physical therapy and the loss of the relationship.

As Beck’s psychologist, Jay had helped him work through most of that. And the painful inquiry about the shootings.

Van plopped a folder on his desk. “Got a computer request that needs your expertise.”

“Don’t think I can help you.” Beck picked up a pen, tapped it on the folder. “I’m not a computer expert.”

Van’s full mouth thinned, lips pressed together. “It’s a search for vehicle license plates. Need it for the murder book.”

Helpless to resist, Beck’s gaze wandered down Van’s chambray-clad torso. The memory of burying his face in Van’s groin set off a twitch in his own.

“Hey, dickhead. I need the information.”

Head in the game, Stryker. “What’s the case?”

For a moment, Van said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard. Then, “It’s a home invasion.”

It was Beck’s turn to stare. Another one? “When did that happen?”

“A week ago.”

“What’ve you got so far?”

“You’re not on active duty in the field, Stryker. And you’re not part of my investigation.”

Beck barked a laugh. “Same supportive bastard, aren’t you?”

A faint pink materialized high on Van’s cheeks. He opened his mouth, closed it.

Beck waited, twirling the pen.

“Just get the information.” Van turned on his heel. In spite of himself, Beck took a surreptitious look at Van’s ass as he marched back to his desk. Too bad there wasn’t more to him than a hot body.

Across the room, Van’s partner, Katie Coleman, gave him a huge smile. If she were a guy, maybe she’d pique Van’s interest. As it was, she’d be wasting her time. Bats for my team, Coleman. Beck swung his gaze toward the folder.

Whether Van acknowledged it or not, Beck was part of the investigation now.

Your Biggest Fan is a beautiful story about Love, Acceptance of yourself and recognizing that you sometimes need to look up and see that life is better than you thought it was.

This may be an M/M story but I really did relate to the absolutely adorable Truman “Tru”. Up until a few years ago I had the hardest time accepting my depression or the fact that I had indeed made friends and that life was better than I thought it was. It took a lot of knocks before I finally got the message. I may still be skittish when it comes to certain things and open up but I know now that I have friends who love me and speak “Selena” even when I make no sense whatsoever.

The themes of this book transcends simply a GLBTQ story and is truly a human story that can help anyone who needs someone to relate to about accepting one’s self and accepting the gift of love.

A truly wonderful read that you will leave you wanting more of this new series from the talented Ms. Welsh.

I’m delighted to be here with Se celebrating the release of my new novel, Genetic Celebrity. This book is a MMF ménage that takes place in the world of supermodels, and it also includes a ton of food porn. Now this is ironic, because, unlike Se, I am not a foodie. In fact, I’m the direct opposite. For the most part, food is only interesting to me as an opportunity for socializing and conversation. I love breakfast because I really like eggs. But beyond that, I get excited over a Starbucks chai latte.

My favorite non-foodie story harkens back to when I was in my early 20s. I had a great apartment just outside Washington, D.C. My mom came to visit me for the weekend and arrived while I was still at work. She thought she’d surprise me by cooking dinner. My apartment had a nice kitchen. She let herself into the apartment, opened my refrigerator and found a bottle of champagne, a jar of mustard, and an orchid. Needless to say, she had some shopping to do. During that same period, I had some friends come to visit me from Germany. I wanted to cook fried chicken. I had to call my mother to ask for every step of the process. And I had to go out and buy the ingredients — including the salt and pepper.

I’m a little better now. I even had a short gourmet cook period in my life. But I know a lot about food, having been surrounded by great cooks, and I called upon their spirits in writing Genetic Celebrity. In the story, my hero Tommy Riley is an amateur gourmet cook. Even though he’s been attracted to men most of his life, he has a mad passion for an older, gorgeous female modeling agent. But she only seems to love him for his food. The his boss brings home a beautiful, androgynous street kid who he wants to turn into a supermodel. Tommy is attracted to him too. Yep, it’s a ménage with Food Porn!! To get into their passions for food, I drew on the things I know and love — whipped cream, strawberries, and, of course, champagne. What foods do you consider sexy?

Would you like a chance to win a $10 GC? Leave a comment here WITH YOUR EMAIL. Want a chance to win 2 $10 GCs? Come over to Beautiful Boys Books and leave a comment with your email and do a few more steps. You’ll be entered in TWO drawings. You can also win some fun SWAG. All the instructions for how to do that are at Beautiful Boys Books. But first, leave a comment here with your email. Thank you again, Se, for being my food inspiration–and for having me on the blog today.

Tommy Riley loves cooking and the simple life. But his passion for Angie “Booky” Edelson is anything but simple. Beautiful, ambitious, hard-driving and 10 years older than Tommy, Booky represents all the things Tommy has tried to leave behind. Besides, she only seems to love him for his food! Then Tommy’s boss brings home Shay Shaleen, a pierced, tattooed, androgynous street kid for Booky to turn into a top male model. Tommy sizzles for the beautiful guy but Shay gets caught up in the flattery of a famous fashion designer. Why does Tommy have to fall for two people who can’t love him back? Is there a recipe for blending with these genetic celebrities?

What an embarrassing few hours. All the kid had to do was raise an eyebrow, and Tommy’s cock stood up and said howdy. He’d spent three hours with Booky and two hours with Shay, and he felt like his damned penis had been doing jumping jacks, warming up, but it never got to play in the big game. It was bouncing around, yelling, “Put me in, coach.” He chuckled. Maybe the problem was his biggest athletic achievement had been in chess. And right now he needed an attack on his queen. He rolled over to the nightstand and pulled out his lube.

A quick squirt. He reached down and pulled the pajama bottoms below his half-hard cock. Just thinking about that guy lying across the hall in the guest bed was turning him on. He sighed, rubbed the lube on his hands, then stopped. What did this all mean? As a young kid he’d shown all the usual interest in little girls, talking them into pulling down their panties and all that. Then in high school he’d discovered guys, but the girl thing never really went away. Which had been good because he could date girls and have sex even while he was lusting after the only guy in the tournament who could beat him in chess.

He’d had the biggest hard-on for Damien. Then on the day that Tommy had finally beaten him with a kingside strategy, Damien had pulled him into a stall in the men’s room and kissed him. Je-sus. Tommy ripped the guy’s pants off and had his big cock in Damien’s ass before he could cry surrender. They’d fucked desperately for fear somebody was going to come into the bathroom. At one point someone had come through the door, and Damien had jumped up on the toilet so no one could see his feet. Tommy stood there sucking Damien’s cock quietly while the visitor peed outside in the urinal. Jeez, that had been fun. Of course, later they’d been discovered by his father while making out in Tommy’s bedroom. Talk about shit hitting fans.

This was the wrong time to think about that. He reached for his cock and paused. Damn, he should call Booky before it got any later and get her over here tomorrow. He looked at his lube-covered hand, then reached for the phone with his dry one. No reason to waste time or lube. He hit the speed dial with his thumb.

He heard the ringing. “Hey, Tommy. What’s up, baby?”

That husky voice vibrated through his ear and dived straight to his cock. He grabbed the dick as it stretched. “Hi, Book. Uh, can you come over tomorrow?” Oh yes, just one little squeeze.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“Ummm, Roan has a special project for you.” He clicked on to speaker so he could use both hands.

“Tommy Riley, don’t be mean. Tell me.” Oh God, that voice. He pictured the lips the voice was coming from. Had to control his panting.

“No, no, can’t tell. Sorry, Book, have to go. I…uh, have something in the oven.”

“At this hour?”

“Yeah, and it’s getting too hot.”

“Okay, what time shall I come?”

“Come? Oh yes, come. Come at nine thirty for breakfast. Come. Okay?”

“Okay.” She sounded suspicious.

“See you tomorrow.” Stroke, stroke. He clicked off, threw the phone on the bed, rose up on his knees, and got serious. While he was at it, he might as well get off on some more fantasies.

Imagine fucking Shay Shaleen. Those long legs stretched over his pretty head, Tommy hammering his ass. Yesss. And shoving his big, thick dick into Booky. Making her scream his name over and over. Oh, that was so good. Into Shay. Into Booky. Shay. Booky. Fucking them both. Wow. Stroke, stroke, stroke. She-it! Spunk shot out of his dick and landed on the top of the sheets while flashes of heat seared through his balls and into his head.

“Jeez. Yes!” He gasped and took deep breaths. His muscles relaxed. He’d clean the sheets tomorrow. Sleep now. Shay and Booky. I wish.

Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote published in January of 2011. Then she capped off the year by being voted Best Author of 2011 in the LRC Awards and had her Genetic Attraction Series named runner-up for Best Series of 2011! A very good year. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas, she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.

I’m so happy to be here at my friend Selena’s today celebrating the release of Beach Balls, my new MM contemporary novella that comes out today from Etopia Press. It’s appropriate that I should be here because Selena is the cause of it all!

In February 2011, Selena sent me an email and asked if I would like to contribute a novella to an anthology coming up from Etopia called Beach Bums. To get me interested, she sent me some inspiration — an Aussie Bums commercial with hot Australian guys running on the beach in skimpy swim trunks! After I pulled my tongue back in my mouth, I hunted for the keys to type “Yes! I’ll do anything! Just keep sending me inspiration.” Then she sprang the news. I had 30 days to write the book. Yikes. But I was honored by her faith in me. I had only published one book at the time and had the second under contract so she was taking a chance on a new writer.

I worked diligently for my 30 days and produced the novella called Volley Balls. Of course, two of my heroes are from Australia staying true to Se’s inspiration. The book was well received and I was a happy camper. But there was a minor character in Volley Balls named Rodney who was crying out for a book of his own. So at the end of 2011, I started writing another book in the series called Fire Balls. This book which came out in February of 2012 really struck a chord in people. The combination of the hunky, conservative firefighter and the flamboyant, feisty artist became the number one bestselling gay romance on Amazon and ARe.

At that point, Etopia suggested that if I wrote a third book it could become a series of its own. The Balls to the Wall Series was born and I had the story I was anxious to tell. I wanted an enemies-to-lovers tale about a developer and an environmentalist who meet underwater where they can’t see that they are natural enemies. This is the premise of Beach Balls.

Today I am writing my 12th book and thinking up yet another story for the Balls to the Wall Series. None of it would have happened without Selena. Se inspires me every day. And I can’t say thank you enough.

Before you go, would you like a chance to win a $10 gift card? Just leave a comment here WITH YOUR EMAIL. The drawing for the winner will be held on June 9th. And if you’d like a chance to win a Volley Balls or Fire Balls T-shirt or a Fire Balls carry bag, be one of three people to follow the most blogs and events on the blog tour. The tour is only one week so it’s easy to visit all the blogs. Everyone who follows any events will be eligible to win. If you are one of the top three, you get a book. Or if there are more than three who attend everything, we’ll have a drawing. All the events are listed at Beautiful Boys Books along with extra chances to win prizes. Come on over.

Adam James is so far in the closet he could find Narnia. But coming out would threaten all he’s built as the lead attorney for WMA Development, and the million dollars he can get when he finishes pushing a big land remediation project through the City Council. Then on an early morning scuba dive, Adam meets a tall, lean rebreather diver named Sky who makes him want to live a different life. But Adam’s dreams are shattered when he walks into the council meeting and finds the fire-breathing environmentalist who’s screwing up his chances of winning is none other than that same beautiful man. Sky Sea Mickeljohn doesn’t compromise, so how could he find himself lusting after a damned developer? And what happens when somebody open’s Adam’s closet door? These two better start telling the truth if they’re ever going to find world peace.

Sky sank down on the sand beside the biggest rock. He scooted to the far side, which would make him invisible to anyone down the beach by the restaurant. He patted the sand beside him.

Adam sat, and Sky put an arm around him, pulling him close. Man, this was new territory. Adam took a deep breath.

“Is this uncomfortable for you?”

“No, just different.”

“Because you don’t go with guys in public?”

“Yeah. And when I am with them I usually top, so I take the lead.”

“Oh, sorry.” Sky started to withdraw.

Adam grabbed his hand. “No I wasn’t complaining. Just explaining.”

Sky tightened his arm. “You like this?”

“Yeah. I do.” Adam wasn’t lying. The man was angel-faced and almost girlie with his halo of curls, but he sure knew how to be a man.

“Good.”

The roar of the ocean and yammering of the seagulls almost overpowered the sound of his heart in his ears. This was so d nice. Adam pressed closer and fit his head into the hollow below Sky’s collarbone. It was odd feeling…almost cared for.. That wasn’t a feeling he ever got. No one took care of Adam but Adam. Still, Sky felt good—warm and even a little safe, which was bizarre since he was threatening Adam’s carefully manufactured identity.

Sky palmed Adam’s cheek then coaxed his face up. Adam looked into the blue eyes as Sky’s lips gently touched his. He nuzzled, then nipped, followed by a broad tongue lick full on the mouth. Adam laughed but he had to admit it sounded a lot like a giggle. He buried a hand in Sky’s curls and pulled his head tight, tasting minty toothpaste and pure goodness.

Adam twisted so they faced each other and wrapped his other arm tightly around Sky’s waist, pulling him close. Sky’s tongue was deep and marauding, hot and wet. Adam’s cock sprang to attention like a marine on parade. Years seem to have passed since they’d last fucked. Sky was a heady drug, and Adam was rapidly becoming an addict.

Sky’s tongue pressed deep inside. Somebody moaned, Adam wasn’t sure who, but he wanted more. He rose up on his knees and threw one leg across Sky’s lap, settled his butt, and leaned forward so their cocks pressed hard. Sweet Jesus, that felt good. He rode against Sky’s cock, and every thrust sent fire shooting through his balls.

Sky threw his head back. “Holy crap.”

What was he doing? Adam looked over his shoulder. No one was coming. Still, he should stop. But he couldn’t make his hips quit grinding against Sky’s cock.

Sky’s arms came around him. “You didn’t tell me you got rich doing lap dances, buddy.” His breath came so hard he could barely talk, and his hips pushed up rhythmically.. “Hell, I’d pay a million bucks for you.”

Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote published in January of 2011. Then she capped off the year by being voted Best Author of 2011 in the LRC Awards and had her Genetic Attraction Series named runner-up for Best Series of 2011! A very good year. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas, she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.

Over the last six months, I’ve had the pleasure of becoming friends with Selena Illyria. As you, her readers, know, she is a delightful wild woman full of music, mischief and great recipes. Se has been a blessing in my life and huge help to me as a writer. In fact, the book that I am announcing today from Etopia Press called Volley Balls is all her doing! Last February, Se Skyped me and asked if I’d like to write a book in 30 days (did I say she was a friend?!) The book was to be a part of an anthology with Selena and a number of other terrific writers. Now, I’m a relatively new fiction author (my first book, Genetic Attraction just came out in January of 2011 and the second, The Scientist and the Supermodel, released on May 31) so being invited to participate in an anthology was an honor. Plus, that wicked Selena sent me this video ad for Aussie Bums swim trunks as an inspiration and I melted on the spot. But 30 days? I had written a book in a month as part of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) so I knew I could do it and this was a short book. Less than 30 days later I turned in the completed manuscript all shiny to Etopia, they accepted it for contract and here it is releasing today.
Funny how stuff works. This little book has become a huge favorite of mine. First, I adore my hero, David Underwood. You still don’t see a lot of flamboyantly gay characters in books, but David is one of them. He may be a bit effeminate, but he’s a tiger fighting for what he believes in. And my other boys are the hunkiest of Aussie volleyball players (thanks to Se’s inspiration!) so you alpha lovers have nothing to worry about. The book has some serious themes, but it’s still a summer romance set in one of my favorite towns in the world – Laguna Beach, CA. So here it is. A nibble of Volley Balls. The book that asks the question “can a gay boy from Laguna find happiness with an alpha male … or two?”
And you can WIN this book if you’d like to participate in the Hot Sizzling Summer blog tour contest. Here are the rules:

Comment on this blog and leave your email address. I will copy it and enter it in the drawing for the copy of Volley Balls being given away next Saturday. You’ll be notified by email if you win. Comment and email, simple.

Here’s MORE CHANCES TO WIN! (more complicated so read closely LOL)
• Go to my Book blog http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com. Leave a comment and follow the blog (if you already do follow, it counts). You will be entered in EVERY drawing until the end of the month. One book will be given away every week and you’ll be entered in all those drawings.
• Go to each blog on my blog tour and leave a comment on the day of the post (or at least in the same week) and you will be entered again for each additional comment during the week in which the post is made.
• The entire blog tour is listed on my website http://www.taralain.com/blog_tour_schedule.html and updates will be posted regularly so check it out. There will also be Yahoo Group chats where I will be giving away other books so watch for those!
• All the weeks activities are listed at Blog tour Central http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Whew!! Remember, you can take each one of these steps and have a bunch of chances to WIN! (You just have to enter, the logistics are my nightmare! LOL) Got it? Start by Commenting HERE!

David Underwood needs to go to AA – Alpha-lovers Anonymous, but his ogling of two Australian volleyball players on Laguna Beach gets him harassed and terrified he might be in for a repeat of his previous abusive relationship. Australian, Gareth Marshall needs to come out. A lifetime of hiding his orientation from his best friend and volleyball partner, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, has left him hurt and frustrated. When Gareth gets a load of David posing nude as the Micheangelo statue in the famous Laguna Pageant, he knows his hiding days are numbered. But Edge has his own secrets, and may just take them out on the two lovers. And David’s ex-lover has some nasty plans of his own. With everything stacked against them, can a flaming gay Laguna boy find happiness with an alpha male – or two?

Gareth picked a book from a back shelf and flipped through it. “Wow. Japanese porn.”
David glanced and laughed. “Actually, it’s Japanese shunga prints. It was a medieval art form. The Japanese don’t think of erotica like we do, so it’s not really pornographic.”
“But these blokes are hung.”
“Yes. It’s characteristic of the form. No one knows why exactly.”
“Bloody hell, these are hot. Wish they had some of two guys together.”
“They do, actually. It’s hard to tell in some cases because the men are often adolescent boys who dress more like women. In Japan, people were seldom considered homosexual. Only acts were described as such.”
“Yeah. I found one. Oh, shit, this is so hot.” David felt a strong arm wrap around his waist. Gareth pulled David back against a rock-hard cock covered by denim. He leaned hard against David and stuck the book in front of David’s face. “Look at that, love.”
Oh yeah, David hardly had to be reminded. He’d used that very book to jerk off a few times in the bathroom, being very careful not to get cum on the pages. “Yeah, I know. I love that book.”
“Oh, have you been a very bad boy with this book?”
“Yes.”
Gareth breathed hot in his ear. “And where would that have been?”
“In the back bathroom.”
“Oh, you naughty, naughty boy. I think I may spank you tonight for being so very bad.”
David moaned, while trying to keep his eyes on the front door and the few people passing by.
“But I don’t think I can wait ‘til tonight, you naughty boy.” Gareth set the book on the counter in front of David. “Just keep looking at this, love.”
The etching showed two young men, opulently dressed in kimonos, ministering to an older man’s enormous phallus with their tongues. Crap, it was so sexy. Gareth licked the shell of David’s ear. “I want you to know that I have been tested regularly and have a clean bill of health.”
David was gasping now as the thick ridge of cock pushed between his ass checks, still covered in skin-tight stretch denim. “Me, too. I’m clean.”
“Oh good, love, because I want to swallow.”
And before David could think, much less protest, Gareth was on his knees in front of him, back to the counter and pulling down David’s zipper. David kept staring toward the door with what he knew was a stupid grin on his face, as those rough fingers pulled his stiff cock out.
Then warm, wet heat surrounded him. “Oh shit, Gareth.” He forced himself to whisper when he wanted to shout.
He stared at the beautiful etching, then turned the page and saw the huge phallus of one man penetrating the asshole of another, younger man. Oh God, oh God.
“Hi, David.”
He looked up at the open front door of the shop to see one of his friends from the Laguna Art Museum waving as she walked by. Oh, don’t come in. He waved, hoping she couldn’t see his hand shaking.
She stuck her head in the door as Gareth’s mouth moved into serious vacuum mode while his big hand stroked David’s balls. She smiled. “How’s business, kiddo?”
“Uh, swell, uh, fine.” He pointed to the computer a little frantically. “Just doing some inventory.”

Author Bio:Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote accepted for publication in 2010. She’s now on book six. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.